Aggravation
by Stimme-tan
Summary: Roy's tongue gets him into trouble. Roy/Ed


My first FMA fic! It's just a cute, funny Roy/Ed piece -- that's my favorite pairing!

Don't like, don't read. =3

* * *

Ed lay on the sofa in Roy's office, feet firmly on the arm of it in a way that any other day would have Roy shouting at him, but today earned him no more than a sigh. Arms crossed tightly over his chest, his lip sticking out slightly in a small pout, he was the picture of utter misery.

"You're not going to help it any by aggravating it with your automail," Roy said, eyeing him warily from his desk, pen poised to sign his name.

"Shut up," Ed snarled, settling his arms more firmly in place with a wiggle that might have been provocative if not for the pained wince. "If certain aggravating people hadn't aggravated it in the first place, I wouldn't be suffering right now!"

Roy rolled his eyes as unobtrusively as he could.

"You think this is funny," Ed snapped.

Roy put down his pen with a long-suffering sigh and primly straightened the papers he'd been reading. The whining, tense lump of Ed on his couch wasn't going to let him get any work done, that much was clear.

"No Ed. I don't think it's funny." He figured from the twitch of his lips and Ed's doubtful expression he might have seemed less than genuine, so he tacked on, "Is there something I can do for you?" in his most sickly sweet tone.

Ed twisted around to stare at him, tilting his head at a painful looking angle, his golden eyes frighteningly intense.　

Roy wondered if he had miscalculated. When the glimmer of a smirk flashed across Ed's face, he knew he had.

"I want hot chocolate," Ed said, his face suddenly a mask of aggrieved innocence. "I'm sure that would make me feel much better."

Roy looked at him, then slowly, slowly pitched an eyebrow at him. "Ed. That has nothing to do with your –"

"Don't you understand I'm in PAIN, you bastard, this is all your fault!" The whine at the end was too much for him, and Roy winced as Ed grated it out.

"For the love of – Lieutenant!" Roy waited expectantly as Ed eyed him with a "that's _cheating_" expression from the couch. Hawkeye popped her head into the room just as Ed looked as if he might stick his tongue out.

"Lieutenant, do we have any," he eyed Ed with a slanted expression, "_hot chocolate_ in the staff room?"

She glanced between them in a clear _I'm not going to ask_ expression before saying, slowly,

"Yes sir. Did you need some?"

"Just one. For Edward. Perhaps just a _small_ one."

Contrary to his usual behavior, Ed didn't rise to the bait, and just let out a small, unhappy

whimper.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," he said weakly, managing a wan smile.

"Edward, are you alright?" She looked reproachfully at Roy, and that was when he realized just _how much_ of a brat Ed was planning on being about this whole business.

Really, if he had known things would turn out like this, he would never have urged Ed to go through with it. Even now, he refused to believe the boy could be suffering as much as he made out to be – automail surgery had to be a _lot_ worse!

Edward just turned to look at Hawkeye, and oh Hell, was he _crying_?

"Nothing I can't handle," he said. Hawkeye moved toward him and put a tentative hand on his forehead, gently smoothing her fingertips down his cheeks in a motherly way.

"You don't look well, and you feel rather clammy. I'll go get you that hot chocolate. Perhaps you should go home and get some sleep. I'm sure the Colonel will give you the rest of the day off." She glanced up at Roy, lips pinched into a thin line and eyebrows furrowed. "Won't you, Sir?"

Roy threw his hands up, exasperated. "It's not as if he was working anyway!"

Edward had the audacity to sniffle from the couch as Hawkeye marched purposefully out of the room.

The moment she was out of earshot, the pitiful look dropped right off Ed's face, and he proceeded to look inordinately pleased with himself.

"The bright side," Roy announced, sitting down deliberately and pulling a new sheaf of papers towards him, "is that at least you'll be out of my hair for the rest of the day."

It was a very small victory.

* * *

Roy returned home, tired and frustrated, to find Ed in a very similar position to the one he'd been in earlier in his office on Roy's personal couch, nose an inch from the text of some alchemy book or another he'd found on Roy's shelf. His flesh arm was settled loosely over his chest.

"What a pleasant and unexpected surprise," he said tightly, hanging his coat on the hook. Ed lowered the book and blinked himself into focus again before settling his face into a scowl in Roy's direction.

"Hey, bastard. What's for dinner?" he said, raising the book again.

"How nice to see you, too," Roy tossed absently over his shoulder on his way into the kitchen. Ed grunted a reply.

"Is there a specific reason you needed to grace me with your presence, tonight?"

"I left the rubbing alcohol here," Ed answered, sounding uncomfortable. "If Al caught me at it, he'd probably kill me."

Roy put the bowl of leftover stew down on the countertop, and went to the door of the kitchen, contemplating Edward. He _did_ look uncomfortable.

Actually saying the words took great willpower, but Roy forced them out. "Have you considered taking them out, if they're causing such problems?"

"Shut up," Ed snapped, sitting up. "I got them for _you_, you bastard, and I'm fucking well keeping them after going through all this shit. And if you hadn't been so fucking _horny_ none of this would have happened, anyway."

What could he say to that? It was _true_. He couldn't help that ravishing Edward was like ravishing a young god, he couldn't help tasting and touching everything he could, and even more than that -- silver on that smooth expanse of golden, sun-kissed skin was absolutely more than any man should be able to handle.

How did Edward expect him to wait a _month_ for him to _taste_ them. Oh god, the two days he had (almost) waited had been torturous enough. However -- this was. This was his well-being. "I don't want you to suffer for the sake of aesthetics, Edward. You know you'll be beautiful to me anyway." But damn did those things help.

Edward pouted like the lie had shown on his face.

"They'll heal," Edward said, just a bit sulkily. "But you know, I wouldn't mind a distraction from the pain."

Was Ed really suggesting what Roy _thought_ he was suggesting? He had been sure that he would be sleeping alone until the damage had been reversed.

Seeing his dumbfounded look, Ed elaborated. "I'm horny, you bastard, and if you think I'm going without until this damn infection goes away, think again."

Well. Such an invitation could hardly be ignored. Roy walked across the room as if in a dream, hands crying out to touch Ed. All he wanted was to rip off that shirt, expose that muscular chest marred now by beautiful --

He reached for his own fly and Ed grabbed his hand, none too gently pulling him down so they could meet eye to eye. "Who the fuck says you're getting any, asshole?" He grinned that same devious grin. "Get down on your knees."

Roy felt his jaw just drop with want. His pants were already uncomfortably tight, his hands itched and twitched, and he wasn't sure he could muster the coordination _required_ to give head. It had been practically forever since the last time they'd been together, Ed needed to have pity – he was but a man.

Ed just glared balefully up at him, expectant. Roy whimpered. "Could you at least -- take your shirt off?"

Ed frowned, twisting his gorgeous mouth in dissatisfaction. But even that was tempered by just a hint of compassion, and Roy's stomach flipped over in excitement. He was going to see them, at least, even if he couldn't touch them yet-!

"Fine," he said grudgingly, flopping down on the sofa gracelessly, his legs splayed out. "But you had better make this _good_."

To show his sincerity, Roy sat down between his legs, resting his hands deceptively gently on his black-leather clad thighs, and looked up at him expectantly.

Ed stared back.

"Well?" Edward said, shifting his hips pointedly.

"Get going."

"First the shirt," Roy said. Pushing it was a risk, but he simply _had_ to see them again.

"_Fine._"

And then Ed was shifting, pulling his black tank top up - albeit much slower than usual, trying to keep it from rubbing against his skin too much, and shifting in discomfort when it did. Far too slowly, the tanned planes of his abs came into view, the trail of golden down that traced up the center of his stomach, there were his ribs, chest, and--

Like two silver beacons, like twilight stars on the golden horizon, hanging from flesh that was perhaps unhealthily rosy and distended -- a pair of beautiful nipple rings.

Roy salivated with the urge to run his tongue over them, but that was what had gotten him in this mess in the fist place, wasn't it?

Ed pushed a bit on his head as if to remind him what he was doing, and drowsy with want, Roy gazed up in his face. There, he saw a strange combination of need, annoyance, and pleasure that he could reduce Roy to this pliable puddle of want and testosterone.

Ed's expresssion quickly shifted to one of predominant annoyance as he poked one of the silver hoops gently with one flesh finger. Roy was abruptly intensely jealous of that finger, and rightly glared his disdain.

"Fuck, I think they're infected," he groused, and Roy, lust-addled as he was, didn't yet register the horrible meaning behind those words.

"Oy. I showed you the goods, now get busy down there."

Roy sighed and reached for Ed's fly, but Ed wasn't through yet.

"...You do know that this means it's going to take them another _two months_ to heal, don't you?"

Roy groaned, dutifully unzipped his young lover, and knew that these would be the longest two months of his life.

* * *

Comments and criticism loved!


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